


Satisfied

by eternaleponine



Series: Subject to Debate [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Clexa Week 2017, F/F, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: #ClexaWeek2017Follow up toReckoning To Be Reckoned.Three weeks later, the Arkadia and Ton DC High teams are headed to Nationals.  Clarke offers to take one for the team and room with one of their rivals.





	

"Good luck!" her mom said. Clarke leaned in to let her kiss her cheek even as she was pushing open the door to climb out. The team was taking a van down to Florida where Nationals were being held. She was not looking forward to spending the better part of a day trapped in a vehicle with Bellamy and the rest of the team, but when the school had decided that it wasn't about to spring for plane tickets for all of them, and several of the parents had objected to the idea of funding it themselves, the van had been their best (only) option. It might have been better if the other half of the team had been with them... but Clarke was pretty sure that she was the only one who thought that. She was the only one who wasn't still looking at them as The Enemy, no matter how many times she'd tried to convince the others that they were in this together now, and that dissent in the ranks was only going to weaken them, and the enemy of their enemy was their friend and all of that. 

She knew from their texts back and forth that Lexa was having the same conversations (to put it politely) with her own team, and that it was going to be an uphill battle getting them to start working together. There had been emails back and forth between the groups, planning strategies and that kind of thing, but they really wouldn't know what it was going to be like until they actually got there and were forced to deal with each other face-to-face.

"What are you smiling at?" Harper asked, looking over at her. "You know that Jasper just ate two breakfast burritos, right? There is not going to be anything to smile about this trip."

"Oh for f—" Clarke stopped herself when she saw Mr. Kane's eyes swing in her direction. "Great. Awesome." At least it was warm enough out that they could drive with the windows down if they had to. Did van windows even open? "Let's get everything in the back."

As soon as they were loaded up, they piled into the seats. Clarke sat at one end of the front bench, directly behind Mr. Kane (who was driving) and stared out the window. She would have been content to just watch the scenery go by, but almost immediately Bellamy started in on planning, and she had to force herself to pay attention. 

"I know that this means a lot to everybody," Bellamy said. "At least I hope it does." That was directed at her, of course. She tried to let it just roll off. "I know that this wasn't exactly what we were hoping for, but at least we're going, so we have the opportunity to prove ourselves. No matter what any of them say, no matter what they do, don't let them get in your heads. You know that they're going to want to take all of the glory for themselves, that they—"

"Stop," Clarke said. "Seriously, I mean it. Stop. We are in this _together_. We sink or swim _together_. Our victory is their victory and their victory is our victory. We will support them, and they will support us. That's how it has to work, or it's not going to work at all."

Jasper snorted. "Right. I think maybe you're thinking of some _other_ team. We're talking about Ton DC here."

"I know who we're talking about," Clarke said. "And I'm telling you, we need to put all of that aside. We're one team now. We represent our state as a united front, and we can take every other state down. We're strong individually and we're even stronger together, but only if we don't let the past dictate the present and the future."

"Just be on your guard," Bellamy said. "We may have to work with them, but we don't have to trust them." 

Clarke glared at him. Was he not listening? Did he realize that he was pretty much directly contradicting her? She swallowed a snarl and said, "At the end of the weekend you can go back to hating them all you want, but for these few days, we're all BFFs. Because any chinks in our armor, any cracks in our foundation that we let show, other teams will take advantage of. The goal is to win, and we can, but only if we work together."

Everyone looked to Bellamy, and she was grateful when he didn't say anything more about their soon-to-be teammates. Instead, he started breaking down the various topics that they wanted to make sure they were solid on, and when they all got bored of that, conversation turned to other things... like finals that were coming up too quickly, and graduation, and filling out housing questionnaires for college dorms and all of the other details that consumed their lives these days.

Clarke went back to staring out the window, even though she could feel Bellamy watching her. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of getting her attention without him actually asking for it. Finally he seemed to give up and turned his attention to a book that he pulled from his bag.

The drive was longer and more tedious than she could have imagined, and when they finally pulled up to their hotel they were all pretty cranky. Mr. Kane went and retrieved their room keys, and started to hand them out. "One of the girls is going to have to share a room with someone from the Ton DC team," he said. 

"I will," Clarke said, hopefully not too eagerly. "I don't mind."

"Thank you," Mr. Kane said, handing her a key. "I appreciate your flexibility."

"That's what _he_ said," Jasper quipped, and Clarke almost choked. She found the room and slid the plastic card into the lock, turning the handle and pushing it open. She stepped into the room, which was kind of small but seemed otherwise all right. At least the cranked up air conditioning was a welcome break from the sticky heat of outdoors. She dumped her bag on one of the beds and looked over at the other, and her stomach fluttered.

She finally pulled out her phone and let herself do what she'd been resisting all day, because she hadn't wanted anyone reading over her shoulder. 

**Clarke:** When are you getting here?

She received a response a second later. 

**Lexa:** Soon. Stuck in traffic.

 **Clarke:** I offered to take one for the team and room with one of the Ton DC people. ;-)

This time the response wasn't immediate, and she wondered suddenly if maybe she'd made a mistake. It had only been three weeks since... and they'd texted and sometimes talked every day since then. Sometimes about their teams, and Nationals, but sometimes – a lot of the time – just about life and themselves. Clarke had found herself staring at her phone more than once, willing another text to arrive, and now she was doing it again. 

**Lexa:** I guess I'll have to offer to fall on that sword myself. ;-)

Clarke blushed so red it spread to the tips of her ears, and it was stupid because there was no reason to be blushing except the first thought that had popped into her head at the comment was, 'That's what _she_ said,' and she wondered if Lexa had intended the innuendo. Probably not; it didn't really seem her style. Also, no swords involved, metaphorical or no.

 **Clarke:** Only if you want to.

Another pause, and the butterflies were evolving into bats. 

**Lexa:** Do you not want me to?

 **Clarke:** Of course I want you to! It's all I th

She stopped herself, backspaced, sent the first six words she'd typed. 

**Lexa:** Okay. I'll see you soon.

 **Clarke:** Not soon enough.

She hoped that on the other side of their conversation, wherever Lexa was at the moment, she was wearing a grin as dopey as the one that Clarke felt her face slipping into. She put the phone down and started to unpack her bag, moving her toiletry kit into the bathroom and hanging up the things that she didn't want to get wrinkled. When she heard movement in the hall she stopped, and when she heard a knock on the door her nerves went into overdrive. 

She pulled it open, probably too fast, ready to pull Lexa inside and pick up where they'd left off three weeks ago—and stopped dead when she saw that it was Bellamy.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

"We can—"

He pushed past her and closed the door behind him, and Clarke took a couple of quick steps backward, trying not to make it look like he'd forced her into retreat, but she honestly didn't know what he wanted and she wasn't to put as much space between them as she could. 

"I know why you offered to share," he said. "I know... you think you're good at playing it cool, Princess, but you're not. At all. I just want to say, don't let it cloud your judgment. Don't let it get in the way of why we're really here."

"They want to win just as much as we do," Clarke pointed out. "We're not going to let anything get in the way of that. Sometimes I think maybe we're the only ones who really _do_ want to win, because we're the only ones actually willing to do what needs to be done to—"

"You think I don't want to win?" Bellamy asked. "But I want to win on _our_ terms, and we could have if you hadn't blown it back at States because you were too obsessed to—"

"I'm not obsessed, and I didn't blow anything!" Clarke snapped back. 

"You—"

The door opened, pushing into Bellamy's back. He stepped aside, and Lexa's eyes went wide when she saw him, then narrowed. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, but her tone said otherwise.

"He was just leaving," Clarke said. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said to Bellamy. " _We'll_ see you tomorrow."

"Mr. Kane says dinner in an hour," Bellamy said. "All of us."

"Fine," Clarke said. "See you in an hour then."

Bellamy gave her another look, then pushed past Lexa and left.

"What was that about?" Lexa asked, as soon as the door clicked shut behind him.

"He blames me for the tie," Clarke said. "He thinks I went easy on you." She hesitated, then said more softly, "He knows."

"He knows, or thinks he knows?" Lexa asked, and Clarke could hear that she was forcing herself to keep her tone casual. 

"Thinks he knows," Clarke amended. 

"And I assume he has a problem with it."

"You assume correctly," Clarke said. "Can we not talk about him?"

"What do you want to talk about then?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke closed the few steps between them, then hesitated before sliding her arms around Lexa's waist, relieved when Lexa twined her own arms around Clarke's shoulders in return. She looked up at her, feeling suddenly small even though the actual difference in their heights was only a couple of inches. "Do we have to talk at all?"

She watched the corner of Lexa's mouth quirk up, and then they were kissing, and Clarke backed Lexa up against a wall, pinning her there with her body, and this time it wasn't a couch, this time it was a bed, _right there_ , but they had to meet everyone else for dinner in an hour and Clarke knew if they started she wouldn't want to stop. 

Lexa moaned against her mouth, arching her back and pushing her hips into Clarke's, and it took all of Clarke's willpower not to start tearing at her clothes... but no. They couldn't. Not now. Not yet.

She broke the kiss and took a step back, panting. For a second Lexa seemed unable to force her eyes to focus, like she couldn't quite process the fact that Clarke was no longer touching her, no longer kissing her. Clarke saw her fingers twitch like she wanted to reach for her again before she let them drop.

"Not yet," she said, repeating her own thought of a moment before. 

Lexa nodded, and turned her attention to unpacking like Clarke had done before. When she was done, they decided to go see what their teams were up to, rather than risking letting themselves get distracted again. 

Dinner was... not a complete disaster. Clarke had been tempted to make people sit so that members of each team alternated, forcing them to interact with each other, but she was sure that she would have gotten shouted down. By the time they were done, they were at least being civil to each other, and starting to discuss different strategies as if they were one team instead of two, and maybe that was the best that they could hope for. She was relieved when they were finally released to do what they wanted for the rest of the evening, as long as they didn't leave the grounds of the hotel or do anything illegal. They stayed out with everyone else for a little while, just so it wouldn't look too suspicious, only retreating to their room after several others had already done so.

Clarke heard the click of the lock as Lexa closed the door behind them, and turned to look at her... and suddenly she felt a little uncertain, a little unsettled, like maybe this was all happening just a little too fast. She could see the same hesitation in Lexa's eyes, and finally she turned away. "I'm... gonna take a shower," she said. 

Lexa nodded, and Clarke grabbed her pajamas and retreated into the bathroom, letting the water slide over her skin for probably longer than she should have, just trying to figure out what the hell was going on in her head. Her body... her body wanted this. The fact that she could feel her pulse between her thighs was proof enough of that. If she could just turn off her brain for a little while, everything would be fine. But she couldn't help thinking...

She realized that she hadn't locked the bathroom door only when she heard it open. "Are you okay in there?" Lexa asked. 

"Why don't you come find out?" Clarke said, (mostly) joking, and felt heat flush through her body at the thought that maybe Lexa might actually take her up on it. 

"I just wanted to make sure that you hadn't fallen and hit your head or something."

"I would think you would have heard it if I had," Clarke said. 

"I don't know," Lexa said. "The air conditioner is pretty loud."

"True," Clarke replied. "Well, I didn't fall. I'll be out in a few minutes. I just need to... finish washing my hair."

"Do you need help?"

Clarke very nearly _did_ fall then, because Lexa's voice was right on the other side of the shower curtain now, and she could see the silhouette of her body through the translucent material, and she was pretty sure that if Lexa was wearing clothing the lines of it wouldn't be so smooth...

She drew back the curtain, just a little, and peered around, and Lexa was standing there, naked, cheeks flushed, her fingers twitching just slightly like she might be fighting the urge to cover herself, but she didn't. She just stood quiet, chin up like she had nothing to be ashamed of (and holy _shit_ did she have nothing to be ashamed of...) and let Clarke look at her. 

After a second Clarke just nodded, pushing open the curtain so that Lexa can step in to join her, and then they were face to face, just looking and looking and looking at each other, and Clarke wasn't sure which of them reached for the other first, only that they went from having too much space between them to no space at all in the span of a breath, and they were kissing again, lips sliding over damp skin, hands gliding over shoulders and backs and hips, pressing and pulling and gripping as they tried to find exactly how their bodies fit together best in the cramped space.

"Were you really washing your hair?" Lexa asked, and then her tongue flicked out to lick a drop of water from Clarke's earlobe. 

"No," Clarke said. "I mean, I already did. I just... didn't know what else to say."

"You can say anything to me," Lexa said, bending her head to suck the water from Clarke's throat, her lips brushing across her clavicle. "You can tell me what you want."

Clarke laughed softly. "I'm afraid I would end up sounding like a cheesy romance novel," she said. 

"Tell me anyway," Lexa said. 

"Things just felt... weird, all of a sudden," Clarke said. She was pretty sure that this wasn't what Lexa was looking for, but it was what she needed to say. "I've been thinking about you... about this... for three weeks, and now here we are and I didn't – I don't – know what to do. How to do this."

Lexa blinked, leaning back only enough to be able to look Clarke in the eye. "You've never...?"

"That's not what I mean," Clarke said. "This is... you're... different."

"How?" Lexa asked. 

"You mean something," Clarke said. "You... I missed you. I barely knew – barely _know_ you, but I missed you. And it feels... it feels..." But she couldn't say it, really couldn't say it without sounding like the worst kind of YA romance, so she just kissed Lexa instead, maybe to distract her or maybe to distract herself. 

Lexa let the kiss happen, but kept it soft, gentle, when Clarke would have pushed it into something hard and needy. She nuzzled her nose against Clarke's jaw, and Clarke thought maybe she was going to say something, but then she shook her head slightly like she'd changed her mind, and this time when Lexa kissed her it wasn't so soft or so gentle anymore. She parted her lips and traced her tongue along the curve of Lexa's lower lip, and without thinking she had her pressed back against the tile like she'd pinned her against the wall before, and Lexa arched into her, the fingers of one hand tangled in Clarke's hair, the other sliding lower, and lower still, and she felt her fingers flutter slightly as she reached Clarke's hip, but she must have made a decision then because a second later she was gripping Clarke's ass, grinding their hips together as she pushed off from the wall and now Clarke was the one pinned, and they were a tangle of limbs, of teeth and tongues, and they were touching each other everywhere, everywhere...

Clarke's knees buckled as Lexa's hand slid between her legs, a finger parting her lips and grazing her clit, and if Lexa's other hand hadn't been at the back of her head, she would have knocked it against the tile as she threw her head back. 

"Fuck," she gasped. "Fuuuuck... Lexa..." It was somewhere between a whine and a moan, and she clung to her for support as she did it again, this time more deliberately, the tip of her finger circling that throbbing nub before sinking deeper into the slick heat of her, and she was wet in a way that had nothing to do with the shower. Her hips bucked, and she brought one foot up, hooking her leg around Lexa's thigh as those long, graceful fingers stroked, sliding over and then into her aching flesh.

She couldn't help the sounds she was making and she hoped that the noise of the shower would cover anything that might be able to be heard through the walls. She didn't know who was next door but she didn't want _anyone_ giving her any knowing looks in the morning. "Lexa," she moaned, over and over again, more pleading each time, until her entire body tensed and shuddered and if Lexa hadn't been holding her she would have fallen. 

Her breathing sounded a little crying, even to herself, so she wasn't surprised when Lexa pulled her close, kissing her forehead and cheeks and finally her lips, whispering, "Shh, shh..." to soothe her. 

"I d-don't think I can stand..." Clarke said, and it was sort of a laugh and sort of a sob, and Lexa managed to get them both out of the tub, helping her to one of the beds, and they tumbled into it still wet, and burrowed under the covers so they didn't get cold and clung to each other. Clarke was shaking, she was _shook_ , and she just stared at Lexa, and stared, and stared... 

"You don't have to memorize me," Lexa said, smiling, her cheeks flushed. "I'm not going anywhere."

But that wasn't true, and the fact that this might be the only night they ever got, or the only weekend, came crashing down on Clarke, and she felt her eyes prick with tears and she blinked hard. 

"Where are you going to college?" she asked, because suddenly it mattered more than anything, and she had never asked before, and why had she never asked before? 

Lexa's forehead furrowed, and Clarke realized that she was being an asshole, that after Lexa completely rocked her world she should be doing the same, not asking about the future or their likely lack thereof. She should be making the most of the little time they had, should be making Lexa feel as good as she did... or had, because now she just felt queasy.

"Please," Clarke whispered. 

"Harvard," Lexa said. "Why?"

Clarke felt the tears spill, and she kissed Lexa hard, and then pulled away and laughed. "Tufts," she said. 

For a second Lexa just looked confused, but slowly realization dawned, and a slow smile slid across her face. "Oh," she said, and then she was laughing too, and this wasn't the end, or it didn't have to be if they didn't want it to be, because even if they wouldn't be at the same school they would be in the same city, and they could make it work. 

Energy surged through Clarke again, and all of the nerve endings that had seemed to go numb when the thought of losing this girl – Lexa – almost before they'd had a chance to begin had hit her flared, and she didn't think she'd ever felt more alive. She rolled over, pressing Lexa down into the sheets, and kissed her, on her lips and cheeks, down her jaw and the column of her throat, down her sternum and over her belly and breasts, and the whole time Lexa kept hold of one of her hands, their fingers locked together, and Clarke soaked up the soft sounds she was making, the catches of breath that were exhaled as sighs and then as moans as she kissed a path toward her hips, and the nails of her free hand raked lightly over Lexa's thigh, down the outside and back up again. She hooked her free arm under her knee, pulling it up so that she could kiss down the inside of her thigh, and Lexa's legs parted, revealing her, and Clarke felt her fingers tighten as her breath ghosted over her skin before she planted a kiss there, her lips coming away wet, and her tongue traced them, tasting the salt-musk tang of Lexa, her lover, _hers_.

She took her time, kissing and licking, exploring the soft folds of her and learning exactly where and how she most liked to be touched, learning the language of her breath and her body, what sounds meant yes and which meant no, not quite, and the way she tensed when she needed more and how she went soft and then rigid and then soft again when she got it just right, and then... then... she learned what she looked and felt and sounded like when Clarke cracked through the last layers of her calm and reserve, got past all of the barriers to the heart of her and undid her completely, and she was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful...

When they could move again, they stumbled over to the other bed, which wasn't wet, and crawled between the sheets and back into each other, shifting until they'd worked out how they could hold and be held simultaneously, and although it was probably impossible Clarke let herself imagine that their heartbeats fell just a little bit closer into synch than they had been before.

"I know," Lexa whispered, and Clarke forced her eyes back open even though she was already half asleep.

"Know what?" she asked.

"How it feels."

"How does it feel?" Clarke asked. 

"It feels," Lexa said softly, "like maybe I've been missing you since before I ever met you."

Clarke closed her eyes again and pressed herself a little closer. "It did," she agreed, "but not anymore."

Lexa made a contented sound. "And never again."

"No," Clarke whispered. "Never again."


End file.
